


Alien Rain

by Magnavox_23



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-23 04:50:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/618277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnavox_23/pseuds/Magnavox_23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The tears of Atlantis she can feel slide down her face, her neck and under her light shirt are cold and wet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alien Rain

**Author's Note:**

> It was raining, so I wrote smut, go figure.

It's a pleasant surprise to find that alien rain smells the same as Earth's. It's the smell of fresh, of new....Deeply symbolic for the re-born city. Combined with her heady aroma, their scent, it makes her slightly dizzy.

This alien rain she can hear beats in time with her own heart, throwing itself against ancient walls. Out here on the balcony its contrast against a silent background makes her want to move with its sacred rhythm. She flexes her thighs, rotates her hips and grabs a hold of the rail in front of her. She whimpers softly, yearning to complete its dance.

She can taste the rain on her tongue. It's sweet and cool as it runs down her throat, reminding her of a water spring in the mountains from some childhood memory. Its potent flavour both satisfies her and leaves her wanting more.

She watches the rain fall from the alien sky; cascade down the city's walls; pool at her feet. The water beads on the railing, reflecting light in her eyes from a hidden sun. She sees the way it slips from the perch to fall softly into the mass of shaggy dark hair below her.

The tears of Atlantis she can feel slide down her face, her neck and under her light shirt are cold and wet. They trail along her skin leaving a path to be discovered by the restless wind as it caresses her body.

But this alien rain is nothing when she feels his warm hands running delicate fingers up her calves to rest on her hips.

The wind is non-existent when his wayward hair brushes her stomach just below her belly button, tickling her flesh.

And the balcony is but a memory when she feels his tongue run through her, inside her.


End file.
